


Compass Heading

by antigrav_vector



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comic Book Science, Coming Out, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Making Out, Misunderstandings, Multi, Naked Cuddling, Presumed Dead, Protective Bucky Barnes, Public Display of Affection, Recovery, Relationship Negotiation, Rescue, Rescue Missions, Team Dynamics, Team Feels, Team as Family, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-12 09:02:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9065152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector
Summary: So… It's complicated. Steve went and got himself killed on a mission, and, somehow, in the aftermath, Tony ended up getting together with Barnes. He's still not entirely sure how that happened, really, but he's not about to question it too hard. He's enjoying it too much.Then, because the universe loves turning his life upside down, they find Steve. It's been two years, and things have changed, but Tony still cares about the asshole, and that, right there, is a problem.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Dapperanachronism, for beta reading on such short notice and over the holiday! ^^;; I know that was a bit of a lift.
> 
> Written for the 2016 CIM Holiday exchange prompt: _"After Steve Roger's disappearance and presumed death, Tony and Bucky fell into a sexual relationship. Two years later, Steve turned up alive and well at an Avengers mission. (Poly ending preferred.)"_
> 
> IMPORTANT: note that there is some discussion of depression, suicide and suicidal ideation but it's only because of how certain actions are perceived.

"Hey, Stark," a now-familiar voice called out to him. Tony turned away from his contemplation of the city streets far below, composing his face.

"What do you want, Barnes?"

The ex-assassin strolled up to stand next to him, leaning on his forearms on the waist-high railing that separated the rooftop from open air. "You've been spending a lotta time staring down at the streets like you're thinkin'a jumpin'."

Tony bit back the instinctive denial. Too vehement a response would only cement the notion that the accusation was true. After a beat he shrugged. "Not seriously."

Barnes huffed at him. "Guess I can work with that. Felt the urge before, too. Just come talk to someone if it gets too much."

And that... that right there was the thing about Barnes that kept tripping him up. Had done ever since Rogers had dragged the ex-assassin into the Tower and forced him to stay. For some reason Tony couldn't pin down, Barnes _cared_. He watched the man warily. "No promises."

Barnes turned to give him a sardonic look. "I can guarantee you, Stark," he said levelly, "Steve wouldn't want you to do that."

"He's dead," Tony shot back, knowing that the hoarseness in his voice would betray his emotion, "he doesn't get to have an opinion."

Barnes flinched subtly, and Tony had a moment to regret using those words. He hadn't intended to cut at Barnes with them.

A shiver went through Barnes, and he straightened, his eyes blazing. "Well, fine. How's this, then: I don't want you to, either. And don't speak ill of the dead."

Turning away, so he wouldn't have to meet those furious eyes any longer and closing his own, Tony forced himself to swallow down as much of the pain, impotent rage, and grief as he could.

After a silent moment, Barnes added, "You get a pass, this time."

"I--" Tony fought for the words to express what he meant. "It's like losing your compass heading," he managed. "Before he barrelled into my life, I knew what I was doing. Who I was. Now... There aren't any stars to navigate by."

Barnes nodded. "I know."

Tony watched as Barnes silently left the rooftop again, not sure what to think of that conversation. Turning back to the traffic and his thoughts, he sighed. Damn Rogers and his careless fighting style anyways. The man had always been on Tony's case about recklessness and risk taking, but he'd gone down on a mission to take out a mobile HYDRA stronghold built on an aircraft carrier just before his birthday thanks to the same qualities he'd always criticised in Tony.

By the time the team, including Barnes, had realised anything was wrong, it had been way too late. Rogers had been radio silent for nearly five minutes, by that point, and, while that was well within the operating parameters the team had established for radio-silent missions like this one, something had felt wrong about it. Natasha had been the one to break silence to ask where the Captain was, to be answered by more silence. That had been when Barnes had started swearing up a blue streak.

They hadn't been able to find any trace of him, though.

A week later, Fury had declared Rogers Killed in Action. Tony hadn't even been able to disagree with the verdict. Free and uninjured, a week would have been more than enough time for Rogers to make contact with them. There was also no prison that could hold Rogers for long. That had been amply proven during his wartime exploits. He was surprisingly good at finding ways to break electronic systems, in modern day prisons, as well. And that logic circled right back around to the fact that Rogers should have contacted them within that week. And nevermind that Rogers had literally walked through the Valley of Death to get Barnes back from HYDRA, and the moment that he'd had his buddy back, they'd been practically attached at the hip.

When they didn't hear anything for another week, Tony started losing hope. Either Fury was right and Rogers was dead, or something extraordinary had happened. Sure, it was possible that Rogers had been captured and held, but that logic was much the same as putting Rogers in a prison. He would do in three days what had taken Tony three months, and walk out as shit blew up behind him.

And so here Tony was, two months later, staring down at the gridlocked Manhattan traffic and getting chewed out by Barnes.

Tony wasn't at all sure what to think of that.


	2. Chapter 2

As time passed, the team slowly regained their balance. The first few missions they took were unmitigated disasters, ending in injuries to them and large amounts of property damage. Fury and Hill had both chewed them out over it, and surprised everyone by appointing Tony and Barnes co-captains, after that. There had also been endless drills.

Tony skipped as many of them as he could get away with, unwilling to... something. He wasn't even quite able to pin down what he didn't like about the situation. Only that it all felt deeply _wrong_.

Barnes tried confronting him about it, but Tony found ways to dodge that, too. Most of the time. Every so often Barnes would catch him off guard, and give him a betrayed look that had Tony hastily backing out of the room. He was pretty sure Barnes had forgiven him for his stupid comment on the rooftop... whenever it had been. It felt like years ago, but it had probably been a month. Maybe two. He couldn't remember.

But the point was that those looks Barnes was giving him were scarily effective, and reminded him too much of Rogers.

Far too much for comfort.

Shoving the idea aside and refocusing on the interface in front of him, Tony set about redesigning his armour again. He was sure he could get enough additional thrust out of the bootjets to make his top speed break Mach 4.

An indeterminate amount of time later, JARVIS shut his music off.

"Hey!"

"Sir," JARVIS ignored his objection, tone as desert dry as it ever got, "you may wish to turn around."

Obeying automatically -- when JARVIS made suggestions, usually he listened, at least to check them out -- Tony found himself nose-to-nose with Barnes and just about jumped out of his skin. "Holy shit! What the fuck!"

Barnes huffed at him. "You've been avoiding me."

Well, no shit, Captain Obvious. Tony kept his silence.

"Why?" Barnes watched him carefully, the laser focus that he'd used to have all the time coming back out for this conversation.

"What? I'm not allowed to want some alone time?" Tony scoffed, deflecting. Something about his avoidance tactics seemed to be bringing out pieces of the Winter Soldier, and, without having an idea what it had been, that was unnerving.

"Stark, it's been three weeks."

Well, alright, that was pushing the limits a little. Tony shrugged. "I wanted them."

"The rest of the team is starting to think you're manic depressive," Barnes stated baldly. "Romanov is convinced it's going to get you killed."

Tony rolled his eyes. "And what do you think, hm? It's not like you to lean on their opinions."

Not anymore, at least. Until now, the Soldier hadn't come out in the last month, and only sporadically in the month before that.

The silence that followed on the heels of his statement drew out for a moment, and Tony didn't know what to make of that. Barnes' expression didn't change, and he stared at Tony, as though trying to see right down into him and read him like a book. "I think you're so hung up on losing Steve that you've lost sight of the bigger picture," Barnes told him. "I think you're so far in denial over what you felt for him that you're willing to sacrifice everything else around you." 

Tony stared at him, wondering how in hell Barnes managed to read him so well. For all that he had been ignoring them so completely that they might not have existed, Tony had to acknowledge -- at least in the silence of his own mind -- the truth behind those two statements.

Barnes, as though he could sense the inner conflict, paused for a moment before he added, "I think you're too damned chicken to admit any of that is true, either."

The tactic was beyond obvious, and the motive also pretty clear, but Tony drew himself up, stung into answering. "You don't know the first thing about what I felt."

"Don't I?" Barnes gave him a crooked smile that somehow managed to convey decades worth of longing and sadness. "Stark, if you think I wasn't head over heels for that oblivious ass when he was still a shrimp, you ain’t got brains in that head of yours worth mentioning. Everyone but him could see it. Including Carter."

Ouch.

That must have been awkward.

Before Tony could find the words to reply, Barnes added quietly, "I have some idea what it's like."

They'd stood in silence for a while, after that, until Barnes had nodded, and left.

It took a couple of days, but something about that conversation settled things. Tony wasn't sure what, but something about it felt like it had flipped a switch deep inside him. Felt like it had made life more bearable again.

At the end of a week, Barnes sought him out again, finding him back up on the rooftop of the Tower.

"Still moping?"

Tony shrugged. "Thinking."

"About what?"

"The futility of wishing," Tony replied bitterly. "I'm a futurist. Should've seen this coming. I just... always thought it would be me. Thought I'd be the first to fall."

To his surprise a hand landed on his shoulder. Tony jerked. Barnes let him react, but kept his hand where it was until Tony relaxed again. The sensation made him twitchy, unused to being touched, much less in a place that was so strongly associated with Obie and how that had blown up in his face.

"Not overly cheerful thoughts," Barnes eventually commented. "But I know what you mean. Always used to worry that he'd get his dumb ass shot if I took my eyes off him."

Tony could appreciate the irony, there. The team knew Barnes' story. Had heard it from Rogers, once, and it was a matter of public record, to boot. The exhibit at the Smithsonian had plenty of details.

The weight of Barnes' arm across his shoulders and upper back was edging over into comforting now. Before he could think better of it, Tony leaned into Barnes. To his surprise, Barnes relaxed slightly when he did.

Neither of them broke the silence building between them. For now it was enough that they understood one another.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony scrubbed at his face with his hands. Christmas was around the corner, and Pepper was bombarding him with the usual five billion and seventy three invitations to events and galas. That would have been fine, ordinarily, but all of the invitations were 'plus one' and both Pepper and Rhodey had categorically refused this year.

He'd show up stag, but the waves that would make... Tony wanted to groan. Fucking politics.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't. If he showed up with no one, the speculation would be rampant within seconds. At least if he showed up with Pepper -- or that was to say, if he had, while they'd been dating -- that had been safe. He hadn't needed to hire an escort, or ask Rhodey. The first time they'd done that, Tony had had to get his friend very drunk before he'd agreed to do it. It had made some waves, too.

Tony himself had been called out as gay, as opportunist, as a pervert, and any number of other crazier things. A lot of the more conservative pundits and politicians had called it a publicity stunt. Not that Tony'd much cared. In the end, his stocks had dipped a bit, but once it became clear that many of the common people supported the move, that had turned into a steep climb. Pepper had been quite pleased, and together they'd used that as their main defense when the Board had attempted to make a fuss.

Rhodey had nearly been demoted and shuffled out of his position as liaison to SI. Tony had put his foot down very firmly, that time. It had been all over the media within hours, and he'd taken advantage of that to make sure that Rhodey got to stay right where he was. After all, when Tony Stark chose to throw his considerable resources at a problem, things Got Done. The threat that his law team might descend on the Armed Forces brass en masse had been enough to dissuade them from doing anything overt to Rhodey. When they'd repeated the move a few times over the next decade, it had become an accepted thing that Tony Stark sometimes showed up with his best friend on his arm rather than the next bimbo. 

He could ask one of the team, maybe Natasha.

That would cause the least speculation.

\------

Tony scowled at his reflection in the window of his Audi as he waited for Natasha to show up. It wasn't like her to be late. Where late meant less than five minutes early. She'd made him swear he'd be there on time, and he'd put in a little effort. He'd only been five minutes late.

He'd been waiting five minutes already, and fought the temptation to drive off no less than thirteen times.

If he did, Natasha would skin him alive with her stilettos, and nevermind that shoes weren't meant for that.

Shutting his eyes and trying to force his mind still never worked, so Tony did the next best thing. He shut his eyes and started tweaking his armour designs.

He hadn't gotten far before the passenger door opened and the suspension rocked as someone got in. Without opening his eyes, he quipped, "Had to get blood out of your dress, Widow?"

A -- masculine -- chuckle answered him, and Tony's eyes shot open. He nearly choked on his next words as he eyed Barnes up and down. "You clean up nice," he managed after an awkward beat.

"Didn't think you were lookin'," Barnes riposted as Tony started the engine.

"I wasn't. Well, not until you showed up in that." He caught Barnes' eyes in the rearview mirror, "That gonna be a problem?"

Infuriatingly calm, Barnes shrugged. "Depends."

Oh, that felt like a trap, but Tony couldn't resist. "On what?"

"What your intentions are." Barnes' smile was all teeth. Daring him to do something.

Tony hesitated. Oh, sure, the obvious choice would be to pick up the thrown gauntlet and flirt back, but Tony liked his skin in one piece, and Barnes was just as deadly as Romanov, if not moreso. Quite possibly more dangerous than Rogers ever had been, and that had been a man Tony had not enjoyed going up against, in any sense of the term. 

"I didn't have any," Tony said, keeping his tone mild and raising an eyebrow at Barnes as he deftly threaded them through traffic with a fraction of his attention.

"That so. I'm not sure I believe you."

"You're angling for something." Tony decided blunt might be the better approach. "What?"

Barnes had the gall to laugh at him. "Maybe I just wanted to spend a night enjoying the pleasure of your company."

Feeling totally wrongfooted, Tony didn't reply for a long moment. "Right. I'm not sure I believe you," he shot back, using Barnes' own words against him. "Where's this coming from? You've never even hinted before tonight. And where's Natasha?"

"Are you kidding? She's the one who stuffed me into this penguin suit."

Figured. Only the Widow would be quite so adept at playing them off one another. "And you didn't object too loudly, I'm guessing."

Barnes snorted. "I'd rather keep my skin intact if I can. It's got more'n enough holes in it already."

Their arrival at the venue saved Tony from having to answer that, and that was probably for the best. He had no idea what he would have said.

Stopping the car and taking a breath, he turned to Barnes and gave him a stern look. "Whatever you do, don't stop walking. Don't accept anything from anyone until we're inside."

"I've walked the walk before, Stark."

Giving in to the necessity, Tony shook his head. "You're here as my plus one. Call me Tony."

"Then you'd better call me James."

That... might take a bit of adjustment. Tony plastered on his media smile. "Alright, then, James, let's run the gauntlet."

"Pretty sure I've had worse."


	4. Chapter 4

Their appearance, in the same car, had caused a hell of a stir, as Tony had known would happen. The camera flashes had been blinding, and the shouted questions had come so thick and fast that they'd become an unintelligible din. James had taken it in stride, or at least appeared to.

To Tony's amazement, they'd made it inside without any major hang-ups, though one over-excited reporter had all but flung herself at them in an attempt to get the scoop. Event Security had caught her, but James had tensed, clearly ready to deal with her if need be. With a mental wince for how that would have gone, Tony had put one hand firmly on James' shoulder and steered him past the minor scuffle.

Once they'd gotten indoors, James had relaxed incrementally, but Tony couldn't miss the way his eyes kept scanning the crowd and the various points of access that the large room had. There would be no stopping him from doing that, either, and Tony knew better than to try. It would be on par with asking himself to shut off the part of his brain that was Iron Man. Simply impossible.

Rather than make a fuss, he'd led James over to the wet bar and staked out a spot where he could lean against the surface. "You don't have to play bodyguard, you know," he said quietly.

"Habit." James shrugged. "One more pair of eyes never hurts, anyway."

"Just remember that you're here as co-captain, James," Tony told him. "You're going to have to mingle and gladhand a bit." A wordless grumble escaped Barnes at that, for all that his expression didn't outwardly change, and Tony was impressed. He waved the bartender over and ordered two martinis. The silence between them held, broken only by the murmur of the growing crowd of people in the room, until the drinks were placed in front of them. Barnes had watched the man mix their drinks with eagle eyes, and taken it only reluctantly, even after he'd convinced himself there was nothing untoward in the glass. "You don't have to drink it," Tony told him, "but you'll get attention if you don't have one in your hand."

"Are you drinking yours?"

"I'll need this much and more to get me through talking to these dimwits."

The comment startled a snicker out of James. "Tony!" He hissed.

"What? Bartender's heard worse, I can assure you."

"Not the point."

A second martini appeared at his elbow as Tony finished the first one. "They really are dimwits," the bartender noted quietly. "Enjoy the evening, Mr. Stark."

As James sputtered, Tony laughed delightedly. "Here," he told the guy, pulling a crisp hundred out of his billfold, "get yourself something nice. Come on, James. Let's see who's here."

\------

They managed to get through a whole hour without Tony making any major faux pas, or James making anyone too nervous. And then Hammer arrived. Strutting in as though he owned the room, his suit visibly trying too hard to look good and his voice grating on Tony's ears, he made his presence known loudly and shamelessly.

"Quick," he hissed at Barnes. "Any side room whatsoever. Kitchen. I don't care."

It was too late, though. "Tony!" Hammer sauntered over, pretending surprise, a malicious smile taking root on his face and making him look a bit like he was trying to do a Grinch impression. "I didn't think I'd see you here."

"Justin," Tony replied, doing his best not to grit his teeth. He was going to have to have _words_ with Fury over this. "I should be the one saying that. How'd you manage to get out of prison long enough to buy that suit? It's terrible."

Hammer's expression darkened. "You know, you always were too smug for your own good, Tony," he said, anger starting to bleed through into his expression and words. "And that PA of yours who put me in prison... I don't know where you found such a ruthless bitch, but you deserve her."

James' expression went tight, but he said nothing. Giving Hammer the rope to hang himself, Tony suspected. "She got a promotion out of that, you know," he goaded his longtime rival. "She's CEO now."

"With what qualifications," Hammer scoffed. "Is calling the cops one of them? Or bearing false witness?"

Tony laughed outright. "Oh, Justin, she can do a lot more than that."

"Oh, she was a good lay, was she?" Hammer sneered.

That, it seemed, was James' breaking point. "Take that back," James growled and Tony had to wonder when James had decided Pepper was part of his posse. As far as he knew the two of them had barely spoken five words.

Hammer, as oblivious as always, raised an eyebrow at Barnes, then dismissed him as beneath notice. "I'm sorry, who are you? Why don't you butt out of this conversation and get us something to drink."

Oh, this was about to get bloody.

Tony tried and failed to catch James' eyes. James was staring at Hammer with laser focus, his expression gone suddenly calm. "Excuse me?"

Trying to interpose himself between the two of them wouldn't help. Justin would take it as encouragement and James would ignore it. Tony bit back a wince. He tried putting a hand on James' forearm, and was ignored. James gently but resolutely pulled free of his grip.

"I said go away," Hammer repeated, more bluntly, waving a hand at James as though to shoo away a fly.

"I'm not moving. And you're taking that back."

Hammer rolled his eyes. "Who is this guy, anyway," he asked Tony. "Some crony of yours? Your new arm candy?"

"That doesn't matter," James said flatly. "I'm going to make you eat those words in a minute."

Hammer was starting to get alarmed now, and his voice rose. "Threat! That was a threat!"

"It was," James promised darkly. "Apologise and get out of my sight."

"Who the hell are you?" Hammer tried again. "I'm suing you."

Tony laughed. "No, you're not, Justin."

"I knew it! You're fucking him," Hammer rounded on Tony, who only laughed harder, his fists coming up.

James grabbed Hammer by the arm and had him in a chokehold before Hammer could even process what was happening.

"I'm not fucking him, as you put it, Justin," Tony told Hammer, "and you're really not in a position to make accusations."

"Fuck you, Stark."

Event Security converged on them, then. It took a minute's persuasion to get Barnes to release the slimy asshat, and then about fifteen to answer the security officer's questions. Hammer kept shouting and trying to get close enough to James to do... Tony didn't know what, but he was spitting mad.

James' calm demeanour and Tony's amusement had security ruling in their favor and firmly escorting Hammer away from them.

It took another quarter hour for James' hackles to go back down. "What the hell was that all about?"

Tony bit back a groan. "I'll tell you later. It's a long story, and parts of it are classified. What I want to know is how the hell he got out of jail."

A short silence fell between them as Tony led the way to a quieter corner.

"How much longer were you planning to stay?" James asked him, once they'd staked out a table, and he'd secured the seat with the best sightlines on the area.

Tony glanced at his watch. "I guess we can give it ten minutes and leave. I've been here and been seen. And Hammer made sure we were noticed by everyone. Which, that chokehold was the best thing I've seen in months."

James nodded. "Ten minutes." He considered the rest of Tony's statement for a beat, then smirked. "That almost made being stuffed into this getup worth it."

"I hope it gets into the news. I want a picture of it to frame."

James snorted. "You don't have frames. Just JARVIS' digital scrapbooks."

"Same difference," Tony waved the objection away.


	5. Chapter 5

The drive back to the Tower was mostly silent. Tony spent it mulling over what he'd learned, and trying not to think about James putting Hammer into a chokehold. That had been inappropriately hot, and he still had no idea how he felt about James blatantly flirting with him.

On the one hand, James was just as ridiculously attractive as Rogers had been, and that loss no longer stung quite as badly. That last seemed to be true on James' part, as well, judging by the way he was acting around Tony. Or, at least, he didn't blame Tony, which was just as important. Tony knew he would probably never fully get over that particular loss, and nor would James.

But for now, Tony was more or less stable, and as far as he knew so was James. That hadn't been the Winter Soldier that had come out at the party. Not entirely. James had still been very much present and accounted for.

And that, unfortunately, only made the scene better.

As he finished the thought, the Tower's garage entry loomed in front of him, and he spared a moment to realise that he had been paying no attention at all to the drive, his focus entirely on his attempts to unravel the night's revelations.

Restraining the urge to shake his head to clear it, Tony pulled the car into its parking spot and shut off the engine.

James opened the door and stood, stretching. The motion pulled his tuxedo pants tight around his ass and the jacket around his shoulders. Tony couldn't tear his eyes away.

Turning back to the car and raising an eloquent eyebrow at him, James quipped, "Gonna stay in there all night?"

"Nah," he shot back, opening his own door and stepping out, "I'd rather not spend the night on those seats. Pretty sure that would ruin the tux."

"That'd be a real shame," James noted, giving him a lingering once-over from head to toe.

Leaning against the side of the car, his arm bent and elbow resting on its roof, Tony caught James' eyes. "You gonna tell me what exactly you're after?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." James hooked his thumbs into his pockets and rocked back onto his heels with a smug smirk.

"You've been throwing hints at me all night," Tony replied, keeping his tone mostly level, "and you never did answer my question. What do you want from me? A one night stand? Fine, I can do that."

James's smirk faded, and his expression went serious. "Is that all you want?"

"What I want isn't under discussion right now."

"You don't know what you want, do you." James watched him closely and nodded to himself after a moment. "Well, alright. We can try things out, first, if you want. No strings attached. But I'm after a bit more than just one night. Sure, sometimes that's all it ended up being, Before, but that was never the goal."

That fit with what Tony knew about him. He nodded slowly. "Guess I can work with that."

Stalking around the car's hood to stand in front of Tony, James reached out carefully, leaving Tony enough time to stop him, if he wanted. Deciding to take a risk, Tony didn't make a move. A warm palm caught against his facial hair as it slid along his cheek to tangle in his hair by his ear. 

Not one to sit back and let himself be pushed into the position of responding, Tony hooked his hands into James' waistband, and hauled him closer, leaning in to kiss him. They were just about the same height, so he didn't have to crane his neck, which was nice, and James was good at this, which was even nicer.

The next few minutes blurred into a haze of touch and the scratch of facial hair and the slide of James' hands over his torso. The lips against his felt like they were pouring heat down into him, and fuck if that wasn't starting to get him hard.

Tony pulled back, trying vainly to catch his breath, and found himself insistently pulled back in so James could make another attempt to make him forget his own name.

It took them a while to pull apart, and they wound up leaning against one another as they stumbled toward the elevator, both feeling almost drunk on the sensation. Mulling the situation over as the elevator rose, Tony gave in, accepting that he was going to do this.

It had been a damned long time since he'd had a kiss that good. A damned long time. That was definitely an argument in favor of at least attempting to see this through, even if he was terrible at relationships. Maybe it would crash and burn, fast and hard. But it had been too damned long since he'd had someone he could touch. Someone he trusted enough to let touch him.

Even now that he no longer had the arc reactor in his chest, he still sometimes felt the conflicting needs to touch and be touched and to keep everyone at arm's length so that they couldn't rip his heart out. Again.

Tony doubted James would do that, though. He'd been checked over and cleared by the remains of SHIELD before he'd been allowed to come live in the Tower. Rogers had been livid over that, but everyone else had agreed, including James, who'd wanted to be sure that HYDRA's programming and triggers were gone.

When he'd shown up, he'd been pale as a ghost, and acted like one, too. Slowly, Rogers' enthusiasm and constant affection had thawed him out, though. Tony, who'd still been holding himself carefully aloof from the team and struggling to keep his relationship with Pepper intact at the time, had seen James uncurl a little more each time they encountered one another.

After his breakup with Pepper, he'd found himself drifting aimlessly through the Tower at random hours, and somehow he'd been scooped up by James every time and corralled into the kitchen or his bedroom. In retrospect, that was probably where this weird relationship had started.

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open to reveal the penthouse. JARVIS was silently making pointed commentary again. Tony ignored it. Stepping out of the car and towards the open living room, he tossed over his shoulder, "I feel like I should be offering you coffee."

James chuckled at him. "I wouldn't turn it down, but I had something else in mind."

"Oh?" Tony was pretty sure he knew what it was. "Isn't that moving a little fast?"

"You were the one who offered a one night stand," James pointed out, his tone far too reasonable, "and I happen to know you're willing to put out on the first date."

Tony considered that for a moment. "I could be persuaded. Got any good tricks up your sleeves?"

A slow filthy smirk tugged at James' mouth, making him look even more like sex on legs, somehow. "I'm willing to bet you ain't never been with anyone that had a prosthetic arm before," he replied, peeling the glove off his left hand and flexing his fingers idly.

Tony stared at him, unsure whether he was more turned on or intrigued. "Alright," he replied, turning and heading for his bedroom, "I'll take that bet. Coming?"

Before he got far, he felt a warm arm go around his waist. James deftly swept him up off his feet, getting a surprised yelp for his troubles, and carried him those last few meters through his bedroom door. Before Tony could do more than process what had happened, James had shut the door behind him and tumbled them both onto the bed. They bounced once, and somehow James ended up sprawled on top of him, arms around Tony's waist.

Tony prodded at James. "No, I don't think so. Up. If I ruin another tux, Pepper will yell at me."

"Fine, fine." Laughing at him, James stood and hauled him back to his feet with an ease that made Tony jealous, and then started stripping the tux off him. Tony returned the favor, peeling clothing off James until he was left in a rather skimpy pair of boxer briefs.

Before he could say a word, James pulled him in close, plastering them together, and tumbled him back to the bed. He didn't bother pausing before he started running his hands over Tony's skin. The cold metal of the prosthetic made Tony twitch and flinch, goosebumps rising on his skin, and he did his best to give as good as he was getting.


	6. Chapter 6

"Tony," Bucky stepped up behind him, arms going around his waist, "put down the upgrades and come to bed."

"But--"

"Tony, no." The arms around him tightened fractionally, and Tony found himself insistently pulled physically away from the interface.

"You are _such_ a mother hen."

"We have a mission tomorrow, and you need sleep." Bucky said, logical to a fault as ever.

Tony was convinced his lover was trying to make up for Rogers' absence. Couldn't blame him, either, really. "Save and shut down, J," he instructed. "Guess we're done here."

"Of course, sir," the AI replied. "I'll just see DUM-E, U, and Butterfingers to bed, then, shall I?"

Bucky turned him to face the workshop door and began marching him towards it. Tony let him, though he did roll his eyes. "Sure," he agreed. "Do that. And run those alloy toughness simulations for me."

The elevator doors opened before they got within arm's reach of the call button, and Bucky never broke stride, simply herding Tony into the waiting car, and into a corner of it. His primary objective achieved (get Tony out of the workshop), Bucky pinned him to the wall of the elevator car with his hips and ran his hands up Tony's flanks. "You've been down there for more than two straight days again," he murmured. 

Tony winced. "There was a lot to do."

Pepper had shown up with a pair of designs that needed to be finished for presentation to the Board because several of their contracts were coming up for renewal in the next two months, and without something new, something concrete, that they had ready to pitch to possible investors or to secure new contracts, the Board would get edgy again. They always had before, and Tony knew that wasn’t going to change..

He personally felt it was more than a little bit ridiculous, but it was easier to keep them from freaking out in the first place than to calm them down after the fact.

"Still." Bucky said, ducking his head to put his nose in the hollow behind Tony's ear, his breath washing warm and damp over Tony's collarbone. "Missed you."

Tony huffed, amused, but his hands came up to wrap around Bucky's hips. "You've gone longer without seeing me before and survived," he pointed out.

"It's different when I'm on mission, and you know that," came the predictable retort.

With perfect timing, the elevator decelerated and stopped with a ping, the doors opening on the penthouse foyer. Bucky'd moved in with him six months ago, and Tony still hadn't gotten to a point where that didn't amaze him every time he thought about it. "Fine, granted," he said, as Bucky walked him backwards through the wide open space of the living room, "but my point still stands."

"I don't care," Bucky retorted, and bent to hoist Tony over his shoulder.

Caught off guard, Tony yelped, surprised. "Hey!" He protested, laughing, "put me down!"

"I don't think so. Not until I've got you in our bedroom." Bucky groped him firmly with the hand he was using to keep Tony steady.

"Feeling a bit forward tonight, are you?" Tony smirked. "Well, two can play that game."

As Bucky shouldered open the bedroom door, Tony slid his hands up the backs of Bucky's jean-covered thighs and took two handfuls of firm ass. Giving them a squeeze and snickering at the groan that got him, Tony let go and took the chance to slide his hands under the layers of fabric this time, until he had nothing but skin against his palms.

Rather than set him down, Bucky undid his jeans, letting Tony shove them down over his hips, and kicked them away when they pooled around his ankles. His boxers followed.

Before Tony could properly take advantage of that, though, he was flipped back over Bucky's shoulder to land on his back on the bed.

"Clothes off," Bucky demanded, pulling at his own tight t-shirt, hastily shucking it and ignoring the sound of tearing cloth when he used a little too much strength in his eagerness.

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, so that's why you missed me, is it?"

Ignoring the comment, Bucky pounced. His hands came down on Tony's hips as he settled in the vee of Tony's legs, and the sight was starting to turn Tony on. He might not accept taking a passive role, in bed, but he _definitely_ liked it when Bucky took charge.

After a beat, Bucky broke his silence. "Here's what's going to happen," he said, sounding like he was on a battlefield issuing orders. "You are going to let me get inside you and you're going to hold back. I'm going to keep your hands pinned, and you're going to let me come in you at least twice before you make yourself come."

Oh, Tony shivered as Bucky's ice blue eyes bored into his, this was going to be intense. "Better get a move on, then," he joked. "Mission in the morning."

Bucky's grin was filthy. "I've got my own mission, now."

Tony knew from experience that before the night was over he'd be clinging to sanity with his fingernails. Bucky started kissing his way up Tony's thigh from the inside of his knee, and Tony only had time to be quietly thankful that their relationship had turned out to be so surprisingly stable -- in contrast to what he'd had with Pepper -- before the sensations began slowly blotting out rational thought.

He'd miss this fiercely if anything ever happened.

\------

Twelve hours, a transatlantic flight, a mostly demolished HYDRA base, and a number of minor injuries later, Natasha called out to them over the team comm line. "Sergeant, Iron Man," she said, her voice carrying more than a hint of shock, "you're going to want to come see this." 

Tony caught Bucky's attention easily, and dropped down to the ground to scoop up his co-captain in one armoured arm. "We're on our way. Where are you?"

"Subbasement 3-F. Down the central elevator shaft and north."

"Copy," Tony replied, wondering as he did just what could have shocked Natasha enough for it to be audible in her voice. It took quite a lot to shake her.

It took them just under twenty seconds to reach the correct floor, and another ten to get to Natasha.

It took substantially longer for them to regain their equanimity.

Tony couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from what he was seeing. That... was a cryo tank. And Rogers was in it. "Holy shit. Widow, how long has this been here?"

"No idea," she replied shortly and turned to poke at the computer system nearby. Tony let her. She was almost as good as he was at getting electronics to cough up data.

"We're bringing him home," Bucky said, his voice hoarse.

Tony stepped over to him and put his arm back around his lover's waist, offering support. "Damned right, we are."


	7. Chapter 7

He'd ended up having to help improvise a power source to keep the cryo chamber's compressors running, then move the cryo chamber out of the lab Natasha had discovered it in -- and Tony had privately been amazed that neither lab nor chamber had lost power as they'd methodically demolished the base -- and Bucky had snapped out orders left and right, just about hovering over the chamber as they moved it.

Tony had been more than a little irritated by the hovering, but carefully bitten his tongue. He was far from blameless in this mess, and had no intentions of reminding Bucky of that, if he could avoid it. Rogers was in sorry shape, visibly a lot thinner even through the tiny glass window in the cryo chamber's cover and looking almost gaunt. They'd have their work cut out for them getting him back into fighting trim. Just keeping him fed would be a task. And then there was also the open question of what he remembered. And, maybe more importantly, what he didn't.

Natasha's digging in HYDRA's files, while they'd been on-site, had indicated that the shit they'd been trying hadn't worked, but that didn't mean that Rogers was fine. Sure, the reports said Rogers kept recovering his memories despite their attempts to erase them using the same horrifying system they had perfected by using it on Bucky, but there was still a high likelihood of injury and possible damage. The Serum had probably been the cause of the consistent quick recovery Rogers had exhibited, but not even the Serum was instantaneous in its effect. Rogers could bleed, could suffer broken bones.

There was hope -- hell, quite a lot in fact, given Bucky's recovery. But in the meantime they'd have to be very careful.

The flight back to the Tower -- Bucky had agreed with him that they should take Rogers back to the Tower rather than to SHIELD -- had felt almost twice as long as the flight out here, to the remote wilderness of Northern Canada.

Tony growled under his breath remembering, as he stood at the railing separating the rooftop from open air. HYDRA had managed to keep Rogers hidden almost under their noses for _two goddamn years_. And somehow not even SHIELD or Natasha had gotten wind of it.

His head tipped down until his chin hit his chest, and Tony bit at his lip. He shouldn't have let Fury declare Rogers KIA. Shouldn't have let himself be persuaded by logic. Shouldn't have given up. He _knew_. He knew _intimately_ what it was like to be held captive and tortured. He'd sworn never to let anyone suffer that, if he could prevent it. Just as he'd sworn that his legacy would be more than a body count. And yet here he was again. No different than he'd been before--

"Stop blaming yourself," Bucky's voice rang out behind him.

Tony huffed, not looking up. "You gonna try to tell me you don't?"

"Well," Bucky replied, a flicker of humour in his voice despite the situation, "this makes us even for when I fell off that train and Steve assumed I was dead."

That did get Tony to look up enough to eye his lover, not sure what to think of that particular statement. Bucky's posture was solid as always, but the set of his shoulders was unsure. The question was: unsure about what? "Gallows humour," he quipped. "Appropriate."

Bucky stepped up to him, apparently making a decision, and used his metal prosthetic to tilt Tony's chin up just far enough that their eyes met. "You're deflecting," he said quietly, "to distract me from the fact that you're still blaming yourself. "

Rather than answer, Tony closed his eyes and let the silence draw out.

"Alright," Bucky said after a moment, "come on. You need to get some rest. I know for a fact that you've spent the last twelve hours hunched over that cryo chamber, and didn't take any downtime after the mission debrief."

"But--"

"No, Tony," the implacable field command voice was back. "Bedroom. Or I'll carry you there."

It was tempting to distract himself by pushing that particular boundary until it broke, but Tony knew better. He didn't want to give Bucky an excuse to ban him from his workshop. JARVIS, the traitor, listened when Bucky made such requests. Giving in, albeit with slightly ill grace, Tony turned and made for the roof access door.

Bucky followed, his movements reminding Tony of the Winter Soldier for the first time in months. He seemed to be trying to put down roots every time his feet hit the floor, as though he was about to try to hold back a literal avalanche.

In more ways than one, Tony had to admit, dealing with emotions definitely felt like an uphill struggle.

But Bucky was using that impulse to hold back the world to keep him safe, from himself if need be, and that was the slightly insane part. Having the Winter Soldier appear and be protective of him had really freaked Tony the hell out, the first time it had happened. After that night, it had only gotten more pronounced every time the Soldier appeared.

Tellingly, Bucky didn't even seem to mind too much. He and the Soldier agreed that Tony needed to be looked after, and fucked if that wasn't one of the most insane things in his life up to this point.

Before his thoughts could circle around to the reason why Bucky had those protective tendencies (again), the bedroom door loomed in front of him and Tony realised he had just crossed three floors and taken the elevator down to the penthouse totally on autopilot without registering a thing.

The Soldier's protectiveness made a certain amount of sense, then. Tony could acknowledge that. But here in the Tower, where JARVIS kept watch 24/7, that level of caution really was overkill.

When Tony hesitated in the doorway of the bedroom, he got an expressive eyeroll in response, and knew that Bucky was back in control. "Strip down and get under the covers."

Tony felt a hard shiver go through him, for all that he wasn't cold, and wondered at it. The reaction wasn't sexual either.

He was rattled, and hadn't even truly felt it, until Bucky had pulled him away from that railing.

It was definitely making itself felt, now, though. His hands shaky, Tony complied. His t-shirt got thrown roughly in the direction of the en-suite bathroom, and his shop jeans followed the same trajectory. The move left him bare -- he hadn't bothered with underwear before the mission, knowing he'd only have to strip it off again to get his undersuit on -- and Bucky immediately appeared at his shoulder to push him insistently down onto the bed.

What felt like moments later, Bucky had stripped down, himself, and was sliding under the covers to pull Tony in close.

His own arms went around Bucky's waist automatically.

"Sleep, Tony," he heard, and felt Bucky press a kiss into his hair.

Despite the comforting presence beside him, around him, it took Tony a long time to fall asleep. The arms around him never loosened.

He jolted awake with a shuddering gasp an indeterminate length of time later, surfacing from a formless nightmare that eluded memory the moment his eyes opened. Bucky's arms were still wrapped tightly around him, and their legs were tangled together. Without opening his eyes, Bucky muttered, "It's alright, you're fine. Steve's fine. Go back to sleep."

JARVIS, ever attuned to him, and now to them both, silently opened a video feed in the interface on his windows, confirming Bucky's claim.

When Tony relaxed, though, he felt Bucky follow suit.

That time he didn't realise it when he slipped back into sleep.

Next thing Tony knew, there was bright sunlight trying determinedly to stab right through his eyelids. Throwing his arm over his face with a groan, he shifted to pull the covers up over his head. Bucky snickered at him, and nosed at the hollow behind his ear. "You feel calmer," he commented.

Tony whined at him. "Turn off the sun."

"Yeah, you're getting back to normal. Come on," he cajoled, "I want breakfast."

What he _should_ do, Tony knew, was grab coffee and toast and get back to work on thawing Rogers. Bucky probably wouldn't allow that, though.

Forcing himself out of bed and to his feet, Tony muttered curses at his lover under his breath as he hunted for clothes and ignored Bucky's clear amusement.

Sometimes he wondered why he put up with the asshole. This wasn't one of those times.


	8. Chapter 8

It took Tony five days to get the tech of the cryo chamber worked out. It would have been three, but Bucky had insisted he sleep on a horizontal surface that wasn't his lab sofa.

Actually starting the thaw cycle was a bit anticlimactic. The whole team had gathered to see it happen, but all it consisted of was flipping a switch and waiting. For nearly five hours.

Clint spent the majority of the time playing with Tony's bots, who adored the attention. The rest of them, who weren't so easily bored -- Clint insisted it was different during his downtime, and Tony understood that, he did, but when he wasn't sniping Hawkeye's attention span was about half an hour, at most -- spent their time standing around the kitchenette or lounging on the ancient beat up sofa that was a remnant of Tony's MIT days. That was the only reason he still kept it. He and Rhodey had wrestled that thing into his lab one night during his sophomore year, and it had become a part of his workspace. Like Dummy. Albeit a bit less inclined to spray fire retardant foam everywhere.

Every so often, Tony stepped over to the chamber to check on it, but with JARVIS monitoring, he wasn't too concerned. His AI would let him know if the tech malfunctioned. It was Rogers he was more concerned about.

The barely-detectable vitals JARVIS was tracking looked promising, though, rising ever so slowly as the chamber warmed. It hadn't taken long for the first signs of life to hit the threshold values on JARVIS' sensors, and the AI had immediately begun projecting statistics on the holoscreen beside the cryo chamber.

"Tony." 

Jerked out of his thoughts, Tony blinked up at his lover. "Yeah?"

"Stop worrying and come sit down," Bucky told him. "JARVIS will let us know if there's a problem."

"Of course, Sergeant," the AI put in, jumping on the opportunity. "Based on current estimates, I believe Captain Rogers will wake in approximately half an hour. It may take somewhat longer for his motor control to fully recover, however."

Bucky nodded and reached down to pull Tony to his feet. "See, I thought so."

Tony didn't bother to protest. He'd learned the hard way that in cases like this he'd only get overruled and manhandled. As long as it wasn't something that impacted a mission, Tony'd decided months ago that he could cope.

Heedless of Tony's thoughts, Bucky steered him over toward the sofa and prodded Tony into curling up with him in a corner of it. With his back to the corner of the sofa, he pulled Tony down into his lap and tucked Tony's head against the side of his neck. It was a pretty effective tactic, Tony had to admit, taking a breath and letting a little of the tension leave his shoulders. Having Bucky physically blocking out nearly everything about the large room was weirdly settling.

The team didn't react; they were all well used to this kind of display. Bucky felt no shame at all about being physically affectionate around them, and Tony had taken to that with an ease that had surprised even him. He'd cultivated shamelessness about all things sexual for decades, but this kind of intimacy had been something new to him when he'd been with Pepper. With her, it had always happened behind closed doors, though, because of the overarching concerns she had about their respective images and the Board.

That hadn't been a factor after he'd gotten together with Bucky. Not even for a second. And Tony had kind of loved it. Knowing that Bucky liked him enough to silently stake his claim like that in front of the team -- and that the team collectively didn't bat an eyelash over it -- had been liberating. Not just cultivated shamelessness, anymore. That had been true acceptance.

Tony lost track of time after that, sinking into the calm Bucky somehow managed to channel, and it seemed like seconds later that JARVIS was alerting them to the fact that Rogers was about to wake. "Sir," he said, "it may be prudent not to be standing directly in front of the chamber when it opens."

Bucky grimaced, clearly reminded of the shit HYDRA had put him through and not happy about it. Probably, Tony knew, for a variety of reasons beyond the obvious one. With a quiet exhalation that bordered on being a sigh, Bucky set Tony on his feet, then stood himself. "Point," he conceded.

"Do we need to be ready to restrain him?" Natasha asked, ever pragmatic.

"I do not believe that will be necessary," JARVIS told her, "but he may be disoriented enough to lash out when he wakes fully."

Bruce huffed. "I think I'll just stay here," he put in. "It's probably best if I stay out of range, for now."

Thor, put a hand on Bruce's shoulder, and grinned widely. "You need not worry, my friend," he said, "I have been itching for a sparring match."

Oh hell no. "Not in my workshop!" Tony told him. "I built you a perfectly good gym for that!"

Clint laughed at them all, and took up a position that would put him outside Steve's sight. "This should be interesting."

Sam, who'd been unobtrusively watching Rogers' vitals climb from his spot near Tony's main workstation, broke his silence. "Y'all better get in position, if you wanna be helpful," he announced. "I just saw him twitch."

"Then pop the lid," Tony suggested. "We don't need him putting his fist through it in an attempt to escape."

Bucky nodded, stepping over to the latch holding the chamber shut, and deftly flipping it open. The cover cracked open with a hiss of escaping air. Bucky waited until it died down then flung the chamber wide open. The cover fell to hit the far side of the chamber with a loud crash, and Rogers jerked, his eyes flying open with a wordless snarl.

It took Tony a moment to realise that the only reason Rogers hadn't leapt out of the chamber, or at least tried to, was that he was secured, by his waist, wrists, and ankles.

Bucky stepped closer, the expression on his own face dark, and stood there in front of his friend until Rogers stopped thrashing. It took a while, but eventually, probably weakened by the lack of food and water while he was under, he sank back.

"You in there, punk?" Bucky tried to catch Rogers' eyes and hold them. He was only half successful.

Rogers stubbornly stayed silent.

"Oh, is that what's happening," Bucky went on after a beat. "You think you're dreaming? That this is all an elaborate ruse your brain cooked up? Happened to me a few times, when the wipes weren't overly thorough."

Tony winced. That had to have been almost worse than the physical torture. Fucking hell.

Rogers continued to stare at Bucky stonily.

"Well, fine," Bucky told him. "We can leave you there until you get it through your thick skull that this ain't a dream."

A thick silence fell and held, holding the threat of leashed violence, until Sam spoke up. "Vitals are elevated but stable," he said, "but y'all better calm him the fuck down."

"And how the fuck are we supposed to do that," Tony demanded in kind.

Ignoring both of them Bucky stepped closer, daring. "Come on, punk," he cajoled. "We got you out, and we're not even going to get a thank you?"

Rogers' voice was hoarse and thin, as shadow of what it had once been. "Soldier," he managed, before his vocal cords stopped cooperating.

Sam pushed a glass full of ice chips into Bucky's hand, then stepped back again, wary. Rogers' eyes were locked onto the glass with laser focus.

"Yeah," Bucky told him, picking up an ice cube in his prosthetic hand, "you can have some. But you've gotta promise me you won't try to bite my fingers off. Pretty sure not even your teeth could tear through metal."

Rogers eyed Bucky's metal hand suspiciously, then nodded.

Bucky nodded back, and took the step and a half in to offer the icecube he held. It rested against Rogers' lips for a second before he accepted it. Clint relaxed after Bucky stepped back, and so did Tony. 

Natasha stepped into view, then, making Rogers tense. "Come on, Steve," she prompted. "Their notes said they failed."

That was the moment Bruce picked to speak up. "You'll have to convince him that this is real, somehow, or we're getting nowhere. It's checkmate."

That comment, oddly, brought a flicker of a satisfied smirk to Rogers' face that died as quickly as it appeared. Bucky caught it, though. "What would convince you that this is real, hm?" he mused out loud. "Something the versions of us that you know wouldn't do, I'd wager."

Rogers made no move to speak, but Bucky smirked right back at his friend as though that was more than enough confirmation for him. "C'mere, Tony."

Not sure what his lover wanted, but willing to follow his lead for now, Tony cautiously approached. "Yeah?"

Bucky didn't bother with words, he simply turned, wrapped a warm muscled arm around Tony's waist, and pulled him in to kiss him soundly.

"Mmph!" Tony tried to protest, off balance. He only succeeded in getting Bucky to deepen the kiss, as though he intended to devour Tony from the inside out. After a shocked moment, he gathered his wits enough to respond and kiss back. So they were coming out to Steve, were they? Well, fine.

Running his hands up Bucky's flanks, then back down again, he slid them around to grab two handfuls of Bucky's ass in revenge.

The low possessive groan that pulled out of his lover was almost enough to push Tony into pushing the limits a bit farther yet, but Clint cleared his throat meaningfully, and Tony gave up the idea.

Later. When they were alone.

Bruce coughed into his hand before pulling off his glasses and cleaning them with his shirt. "Well, that's not the approach I would have picked, but alright."

Natasha caught Tony's attention and rolled her eyes at him. "I don't mind the casual touches," she put in, "but keep your making out in the bedroom."

Sam nodded. "What she said."

For his part, Rogers was staring at them, looking a bit like he'd just gotten walloped in the back of the head with a board.

Bucky smirked at him. "Weren't expecting that, were you, punk?"


	9. Chapter 9

It took them the better part of the next week to get Rogers back on his feet properly. Thanks to his metabolism he got tired easily, at first, because he was playing caloric catch-up and the Serum was working in overdrive to fix the physical damage he'd taken.

Rogers had been demanding to be let out of the restraints in under five minutes. Bucky had caught and held Rogers' eyes for a long few seconds before he'd nodded and started undoing them. Rogers had held utterly still until he was free, and then all but tumbled into Bucky's arms with a sob. They'd stood like that for a long time, and the sheer emotion pouring off them had made Tony uncomfortable. He'd watched as Thor, Bruce and Clint had made their way out of the workshop.

Sam had stepped up to start poking and prodding at Rogers. Clint had hung back to keep an eye on them. For his part, Tony had been confident that between JARVIS and his teammates they'd be fine. He'd desperately needed some air, but there had been no way he was leaving right then. 

An hour later, they'd gotten Rogers back up to his floor, and fed him until he looked fit to burst. Bucky had held that line for years, and he'd fallen right back into his old habits without even thinking about it. Tony could see it in the well-worn banter, the edges worn smooth by time and repetition.

He and Bucky didn't have those call-and-response jokes yet. Tony knew he was seeing something that ran as deep as his friendship with Rhodey. If not deeper. That knowledge had stung more than a little, but he set it aside. It had made him feel a bit like he was on the other side of the window looking in. Rogers and Bucky had only had eyes for each other.

Would Bucky have even noticed if he'd left the room? Tony suspected not.

That night, though, Bucky had put his foot down. He'd corralled Tony into their bedroom directly after dinner and left the others in charge of dealing with Rogers. The discussion that had followed had made Tony simultaneously want to sink through the floor and float up into the air.

Bucky had never been a slouch, even before he'd been turned into a sniper by the US army. He'd always been observant and good at reading people. Tony knew that. He just... forgot sometimes. Forgot that Bucky was good at reading him.

His lover had pinned him to the wall with one hand around each of Tony's wrists, holding them down beside Tony's ears, and proceeded to baldly state that, yes, he still loved Steve, but he wasn't about to just throw away what they'd built.

That had been repeated for the next two nights, and then Tony had started just shutting him up by kissing him. It had only encouraged Bucky, though, and he'd started acting openly possessive, leaving hickeys and bruises all over Tony's neck and arms. Tony had scolded Bucky and rolled his eyes, but there was a part of him -- a loud and insistent part -- that loved it.

In the end, it took nearly the whole week after Rogers had been defrosted for the two of them to have the conversation that they probably needed to.

"Bucky," Tony shifted under the covers, tucking himself closer to his lover, "what are we going to do?"

"Do?" Bucky sounded puzzled. "About what?"

"Rogers."

"I have even less idea than usual what you mean, Tony," Bucky told him, with an amused tone in his voice. "Try again."

Tony rolled his eyes at Bucky. "You're in love with him. You don't want to give me up. What are we going to do?"

The arms around him tightened. "If you're suggesting that we break up, you can take that idea and shove it up your ass."

"No, dumbass," Tony retorted. "I still think he's the better relationship candidate, but you've made your point clear on that. There are other options?"

There was a short silence. "What options."

It wasn't, strictly, a question. Tony licked at his lips nervously. "If you wanted to see whether it would work out between you two, you could try," he said, "without the breakup."

"You're sayin' I should cheat? What the fuck kind of option is that?" Bucky sounded outraged. "That's even worse than you suggestin' we should break up."

"For fuck's sake," Tony groaned. "Should've known you'd never heard of open relationship rules."

"Explain."

"This is probably after your time," he told Bucky, marshalling his thoughts into a coherent string rather than the chaotic tangled mess he'd started with, "and not something HYDRA would have ever brought up. There're couples now who allow one another to date or sleep with people other than the person they're currently seeing. Sometimes just for one night stands, and it can be the case that the couple invites someone into their bed together, if they can agree. Usually not on a permanent basis, though. That's more the realm of true polyamory and a lot more complicated."

Bucky was silent for a long time on the heels of that last statement, and Tony squirmed a little, not sure what to think of Bucky's near-blank expression. He didn't let go of Tony, though. 

"Gonna tell me about this polyamory thing, then?" Bucky rolled them so that Tony was half sprawled across him.

Tony huffed at him and tucked his nose into the hollow at the base of Bucky's throat, between his collarbones, and let the even thud of Bucky's heartbeat lull him. "Thought it was pretty self-explanatory. Three or more people in a long-term relationship. With or without sex."

"Now that's interesting," Bucky replied, and the grin on his face was audible. His next question caught Tony flat-footed. "Does that mean you're tryna tell me you wanna open this relationship to invite Steve in?"

Stunned into silence, Tony hesitated. "Yes and no? It's an option?"

"Well, tell me what you want, then," Bucky demanded. "All you're doin' now is confusin' me."

Biting at his lip and shifting so he could tuck his face into the curve of Bucky's neck, instead, Tony considered waiting Bucky out. The odds that it would succeed were minimal. "I was trying to ask you that question."

Bucky chose not to reply verbally, running his hands, flesh and metal alike, up and down the tense lines of muscle along Tony's spine. It felt amazing.

Eventually, Tony gave in with a sigh. "You're worse at this communication thing than I am," he groused. "I want you to know that. I don't know what I want. I sure as hell don't want to give you up, but I know you love him."

"So what you're tryin' your best not to say is that you'd be willing to consider bringing Steve in, long-term," Bucky concluded.

Tony found himself laughing. That was _so very far_ from what he'd meant, but... "Not opposed to that, if you think he'd be up for it."


	10. Chapter 10

They'd decided together to wait, to let Steve regain his footing fully, before they talked to him. At first Bucky had wanted to talk to Steve alone, but Tony had insisted that they do it together. 

He'd come close to regretting that, though, when the conversation had turned out to be more awkward than his discussion with Bucky about this. A week had passed since then, and Tony had had time to think this through and accept that they were inviting Steve into their bed. And to get himself out of the habit of calling him Rogers. It had helped keep the emotions under control when he'd thought the asshole was dead, but there was no way Bucky or Steve would tolerate that, now.

As it was, Bucky had been giving him very expressive Looks, anytime Tony had slipped up since they'd gotten Steve home. They were almost as good as Pepper's, and had made him wonder if Pepper had been giving Bucky lessons. Or if Steve had been the one to give Bucky that long-suffering expression.

Shaking his head, Tony tried to refocus his attention on the upgrade to Steve's suit he was attempting to work on.

It hadn't been going smoothly, thanks to his distraction.

But he couldn't _not_ worry at the fact that Steve had given them both a supremely stunned look, then simply walked out of the room claiming he needed to think.

Sure, this wasn't the first time an attempt at a relationship had blown up in his face. It wasn't even the fiftieth. It just stung. A lot more than the others. He knew this was far more than he deserved. Hell, even his relationship with Bucky was more than he deserved, fuckup that he was. He'd been greedy, and look where it had gotten him. Steve was upset, and that was a pretty clear no, by anyone's books.

Odds were good that Steve wouldn't want to be in the same room with either of them for at least a week, now. Probably a lot longer in Tony's case than Bucky's, though. Steve would eventually forgive his best friend. He'd done the impossible to get Bucky back, after all. There was far more there than simply superficial friendship.

"Sir?" JARVIS' voice jerked Tony out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Sergeant Barnes has asked me to remind you that it is nearly time for dinner."

"Well, I'm not getting anywhere with this, anyway. Save and shut down, J. And let me know if any of those material properties simulations come up with interesting results," Tony instructed, leaning back in his chair and stretching. His shoulders were sore, and his neck popped loudly.

He stood and left the workshop, knowing that if he tried to hide in there Bucky would simply haul him out bodily. His lover had a habit of manhandling him into facing the issues he didn't really want to.

At first, Tony admitted to himself, that had really rubbed him raw. It had taken a few big fights to get that sorted out. Fights that had ended in just the same kind of scenario that had caused them, ironically. Each time, he'd tried to hide in his workshop, and each time, Bucky had forced him out of there, with JARVIS' collusion. In retrospect, it had helped. He could admit that to himself, too. But damned if it hadn't also pissed him the fuck off.

The elevator doors had opened before he got to them, as usual, revealing an empty elevator car.

Some part of him was surprised that Bucky wasn't hiding in it, waiting to kiss and touch him as the elevator rose. The rest of him just shrugged and accepted it. Bucky wasn't at his beck and call.

The elevator slowed and came to a stop at the common floor the entire team had access to, and tended to use for meals when they were in residence. Steve had started that tradition, what seemed like forever ago, and it had just... continued. Probably partly in his memory. Bucky had loved the idea when he'd first found out about it, and wholeheartedly thrown himself into it. Tony kind of suspected that his lover was using that as an outlet for the habits he'd picked up trying to keep Steve in one piece before Rebirth had changed him so drastically. Bucky had, haltingly, told him a few stories about it.

Stepping out through the elevator doors, Tony felt like he was stepping into a lake of noise. Things were a little louder than usual, and that was likely because Steve was around and helping cook things.

Bucky, probably alerted by JARVIS to his arrival, appeared at Tony's elbow as if conjured, and wrapped an arm around his waist. "You're on time," he commented. "Something wrong?"

Tony made a face. "You mean other than the fact that I still seem to be running a superhero frathouse?"

"Yeah, other than that," Bucky replied, chuckling indulgently. 

Well, he'd never really been one to avoid risks. "Nothing I can fix right now," he told Bucky, knowing that would definitely come back up later, "but I'll cope."

"We're talking about that later," Bucky answered in kind, rather predictably, the arm he had around Tony's waist tightening comfortingly. "And I have a feeling I know what it is."

That was likely true, Tony admitted to himself. But first they had a very awkward dinner to get through.

Before he could reply, though, there was a clatter of silverware as a heavy pot hit the table, and there was the usual rush to get to the food before Thor appropriated literally half of whatever had been prepared. Now that Steve was back, there was liable to be a real fight for the other half.

Bucky turned him toward the dining room doorway and gave him a push to get him moving. "Come on," he said, "or there'll be none left."

Tony couldn't tell what, but some mysterious force kept the conversation flowing, despite all of his expectations. For the most part it flowed around him, distracted as he was by the thoughts of the discussion Bucky intended to have with him later. And Steve's apparent lack of response to their proposal, now that he'd had a chance to calm down. In fact, he barely noticed when he cleared his plate, and it took Bucky prodding at him to get him moving away from the table.

Still busy with his thoughts about whether this all meant their faux pas was forgiven and forgotten, or something else entirely -- such as Steve not yet having reached a decision and considering cutting them off the team entirely, what with the issues of fraternization rules and let's not even mention the moral and ethical issues -- Tony let Bucky nudge him in the direction of their bedroom, and went.

Not quite willingly, if he was honest, but he went.

Somewhat to his surprise, Bucky simply made him strip down to his boxers and go clean up. It was only when he was staring blankly at his reflection in his bathroom mirror that Tony realised he had a dark streak of grease across his forehead, and no idea how the hell it had gotten there.

Once he was clean, his lover pulled him insistently toward the bed. "We'll talk in the morning. You look like you put yourself through the wringer."

He couldn't set aside the thoughts immediately. He was Tony Stark, and shutting off his brain took effort. But having Bucky wrapped around him, all solid warmth and contrasting chilly metal, helped.

It helped a lot.


	11. Chapter 11

It took the better part of a day for Steve to come to them, and insist that they talk things over. In the end, well, Tony did most of the talking. Words just tended to happen when he was on edge. That meant it took a while to hash out how things might work, but they managed, and Steve eventually agreed to give it a shot, though he admitted he wasn't confident it would work out long term. If only because of who was involved and what had happened. They'd established very quickly that Steve had nearly all of his memories, and was mostly missing out on the events of the last two years. That had been a hell of a relief for both him and Bucky. It had, however, also meant that Steve had needed some time to get used to the idea that not only was Tony attracted to him, but so was Bucky. That had taken a bit of adjustment on Steve's part, for all that he'd been hiding his own attraction for just as long. Steve had been almost to the point of asking Tony out for dinner when he'd been taken. When that had been revealed, Tony had wanted to kick himself for missing the hints Steve had apparently been throwing at him, not comfortable with simply outright asking.

It took the better part of a month for SHIELD to clear Steve to go back in the field, and he chomped at the bit the whole time. Tony had to replace the equipment in the reinforced gym three times. The good thing about it, though, was that they were all very sure Steve had physically recovered, fully. He seemed calmer, too, at least outwardly, but Tony could see the banked fires beneath the surface. They flickered and flared every so often, ready to rage the moment Steve allowed them free rein. Tony knew that kind of fire all too well. He'd felt it himself after Afghanistan. Steve was only going to be more vehement in his crusade against HYDRA, after what they'd done to him.

It took the better part of two months for them to finally take the last step, and tumble Steve into bed, and that was mostly at Steve's request. Both the wait and the sex.

Tony had been all for experimenting after the first two weeks had gone by, but Steve had vetoed that idea. Looking back, he could see that they had all adjusted to one another. Steve the most, sure, but he and Bucky had had to make the adjustment from seeing Steve as unattainable and untouchable to much the opposite. For a one-night-stand, their initial understanding probably would have sufficed, but long term...

This was better.

Much better, Tony smirked, leaning against the doorframe of the en-suite bathroom in nothing save his (favourite skimpy red) underwear and watching Bucky leisurely make out with Steve on the bed. 

Bucky eventually broke away and said, not looking away from Steve, "You gonna stand there all night watchin', Tony, or are you gonna come join in the fun you've been lobbying for?"

"I can't do both?" Tony asked, but pushed off the doorframe to cross the room.

When he got within arm's reach, Bucky's hand shot out and Tony found himself pulled off his feet. Well used to Bucky's antics, he didn't yelp or tense, letting himself fall into his lover instead. Bucky took advantage of the contact that the body-check put them in, to slot Tony in against his side. It also left him pressed against Steve's side, and the feeling of Steve's arm going around him definitely made him twitch.

It was unexpected. Not just that Steve was willing and truly interested, though that had figured pretty prominently in his thoughts too, but that it was so effective at settling his nerves. Over the last couple of months, Steve had slowly gone from that guy he'd let down to thoroughly, to someone willing to work with him and Bucky to lead the team, to someone he trusted to see him through missions again, and then to the guy he cared about almost as much as Bucky. It had been like putting Polaris back in the sky. He had his compass heading again. He suspected it had been different for Bucky, for all that it was simply a variation on a theme.

The arms around him both tightened, and Bucky snickered. "It looks like we need to recapture his attention," he told Steve, knowing damned well that Steve never could resist a challenge, and knowing that Tony knew it. "You start. I'll join in if you need the help."

"Bucky--" Tony tried to protest. He cut himself off when he felt a warm hand -- Steve's -- slide down his side, push his underwear down, and lift him up off the mattress by his hip. Smoothly, Bucky's hands hooked into the waistband of his thong, peeling it down to his knees in an almost effortless motion. "Well, this seems promising," Tony snarked, still trying to regain his equilibrium. "Put me down and kiss me."


End file.
